Sabbath


I had an “appointment” in my work calendar that I had completely forgotten about until about 10 minutes prior. It was an entry for only 5 minutes and I had to get to the HR floor for this. It’s time for another flu shot.

It was only 8deg this morning when I left home, and I had to put on a jumper – albeit not my much loved woollies, which would no doubt be needed before too long. Last night too, as Tress and I sat on the couch and watched tele – we both felt a little cool and I had to go put on my jeans and that same jumper. Shorts and t-shirt days are numbered, as days shorten and the temperatures slowly descend.

I think in some ways Tress and I have both moved a little – she is no longer embracing stinking hot days and I no longer look forward to cold ones. But I may be wrong, and old habits may prove difficult to perish and may well make their ways out again soon.

On Saturday morning too, it was a bit cool. I was still clinging on to a shorts only attire though. We went yum cha with the Hipos and Chews, to farewell Hipos’ mum. After that I had wanted to do some gardening but the skies continued to threaten opening up. Tress and I had walked up our street to a property auction when we got home from yum cha and it had started to rain a little then. So we pottered around and didn’t do much.

We went and watched George Clooney’s “Monuments Men” that night, and later that night watched Mourinho’s Chelsea maul Arsene on his 1000th game.

Sunday was the usual with church and lunch thereafter at Madam K’s. We then went home and I finally got to do some gardening. We continued trimming the old lemon tree at the back corner, and I mowed and edged the lawn, before taking LBJ for a walk. Still when it was all done, it was only about 4pm. The Bolt Report came on, and we just continued along a languid, restful weekend. It had been a terribly busy and trying week so this restful weekend was much welcomed.

I think the best part of the weekend wasn’t that it was uneventful and therefore relaxing, but that we no longer expected anything exciting or “meaningful”. I was just happy to sail along and not worry (too much) about not having anything on/happening. I was at rest in more sense than one I guess.

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